The Exchange
by bookaddict09
Summary: Bella is unstable and broken. Then an exchange trip to England is arranged and Bella jumps on board thinking the further away she is from her problems, the more likely she is to heal. Then she meets Edward Cullen. Rated M, hopefully for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N : I read loads and loads of Twilight stories written by Americans who write about Chicago and New York and Seattle, but, seeing as I'm English, and sadly, haven't experienced anything close to these cities, I thought 'why not bring Bella to somewhere I can relate to?' So I have brought her to the Jurassic Coast which is basically the south west coast of England, which I am very familiar with. Some of the stuff, for example, the university, are completely made up, but I do hope to stay true to the stunning coastline! **

**I sadly also own nothing to do with Twilight. :o(**

It was raining surprise, surprise.

Apparently, in England, all it ever does is rain.

Not that I mind.

I grew up in the state of Washington, where it is in fact rare, to wake up to a day sans the soft rhythm of raindrops splattering against the window panes. I hoped growing up in Washington was going to be useful in accustoming me to the dullness of the English weather, but not unfortunately, to the overall greyness that seemed to suffocate me, along with the claustrophobic conditions of the somewhat stiflingly warm minibus.

As the cranky minibus struggles to push past 60mph on the M3 motorway, I cast my glance out of the window from the dark grey of the road ahead to the slightly lighter colour of the thick, shapeless layer of clouds. Inside the bus, a bad rendition of 'summer holiday' by Cliff Richard, is attempted by Mike Newton and Jessica Stanley, trying, I think, to boost the lifeless spirits of every student in the bus. On the contrary, it made me want to cringe further into the lumpy seat, which had a faint, unpleasant, musty smell.

I closed my eyes, trying to tune out the straining engine and it wasn't long before the jet lag consumed me, as I fell into a light sleep. Alice woke me an hour later, poking me in the stomach, a sharp jab where the pressure lingered.

'Bella, look out the window. Isn't it pretty?'

I followed Alice's instructions and looked out the window, still a little bleary eyed. I blinked and let my eyes focus on the splashes of colour in the distance. Green. Though not the rich, darks greens of home.

'We're nearly there now, Bella!'

The scenery was nice; there were fields and fields- some held crops, often a colour between gold and sand, whilst others were a picture of black and white pokadots, which I presumed were sheep and cows.

Alice didn't try to make any more conversation with me for the rest of the journey. I could hear a musical beat from her headphones and wondered idly how long her hearing would be left unimpaired with music that loud. Alice shows all the signs of anxiety and excitement, she bounces in her seat a little and strains her neck so she can read the signs out the window. I, on the other hand, feel tired and a little grumpy and really, really need a good night's sleep.

Bored, I took my letter out of my rucksack which was squashed down at my feet, unfolded it, and for the fifth time, read it silently to myself. It was from my exchange student. I would be staying with him for a month and had insisted that I know a little about him before I committed myself to the ordeal. Unfortunately, he didn't reveal too much and I ended up having to decipher every sentence. He wrote—

_Isabella Swan, _

_I hope you are looking forward to coming to England ,you will really like it here. The Jurassic coast is an amazing place, and I hope you will accompany me to some of my favourite places during your stay here._

_You will be pleased to know, I'm sure, that you will have your own room, though, I'm afraid, there is only one bathroom. Everything in my apartment will be yours as well as mine in the coming month so upon your arrival, please don't hesitate to use anything. I learnt from your letter that you are fond of cooking, so I must mention that my kitchen is well equipped- you will find everything you need, though, I must add, I never use anything but the kettle and the fridge!_

_I see myself as a genuine person and I hope that you will like me. I know it feels a bit unfortunate to be partnered with someone the opposite sex, I know it must be nerve wracking enough coming to a foreign country, let alone staying with a male you haven't uttered one word to before. _

_I have enclosed a picture of myself in order for you to recognise me upon your arrival. I look forward to seeing you, Isabella._

_Edward Cullen_

I slid my hand in the envelope and felt the sharp edge of Edward's enclosed picture. I took it out, facing my body away from Alice, who was still humming away obliviously to her ridiculously loud music, and quickly glanced at the male model shown. It was hard for me to believe that this picture truly was of Edward, maybe that was the reason why I was being so secretive about it. Or maybe, just for once, I wanted to keep this miracle to myself. I call it a miracle because no way on this earth is this God-like creature in the picture meant to be for me. I wanted to touch his structured jaw and run my hands through his tousled mop of copper hair. I wanted to feel his moulded lips against mine and stare into his sparkling green eyes.

But all of a sudden, reality came crashing back down upon me with staggering force. I felt my blush, inwardly cursing my decrepit reaction to my thoughts, and hastily stashed the photo and the letter safely back into the envelope. It should be illegal for me to fantasize about such things. I was average, but I considered myself a little less. I was given thick brown hair which was often impossible to style, and matching brown eyes. Though I was of slim build, my knowledge of fashion certainly diminished any appeal my body has, because I cover up in shapeless hoodies and jeans combo on a daily basis. There was nothing alluring about me at all. The lack of boyfriends was an obvious sign which displayed the lack of attraction the opposite sex had for me.

I am in major need of a confidence boost and the man in the picture will do nothing to my ego.

Nowadays, I think myself a mere shell of a human being. Certainly, the lack of confidence has something to do with it, or maybe it's because the majority of the time, I'm alone and feeling desperately sorry for myself.

Then I remember why I am sat here now, and why, despite the colours that flitter past the window, everything still seems so grey. Like a switch has been flicked in my brain, it renders me speechless at the sudden excruciating pain of why I am sat here, surrounded by the familiarity of students, but never feeling so alone in my entire life.

Suddenly my plan felt stupid and preposterous. Of course running away was never going to make me feel any less further away from my problems, even if I am on the other side of the Atlantic ocean. My troubles are like a ghostly haze which suffocate my body. They follow me everywhere. As much as Alice tries to take my mind off of things, as much as I throw myself into my school work, the pain never becomes easier.

And that's why tears began trickling down my cheeks. Of course Edward Cullen will never want me. He will take one look at me, see how much of a pathetic human being I am, and never want to lay eyes on me again. I am damaged, broken, and shouldn't be here.

I slapped a hand to my cheek discreetly and wiped away the betraying tears. I didn't like anyone to know my emotions. I let my lids close on their own accord and try to doze off for a while, ridden in my own sadness, being without happiness for so long has made me forget how it feels.

**So what do you think so far? Is it worth me continuing?**


	2. Chapter 2

2

Alice pokes me again, this time a little harder, and I'm certain that I'll get a bruise.

"Wake up sleepy," she says to me, her voice a little chirpier than earlier.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat and stretch in the confined space.

"Ooh, I wonder where yours is? I can't see mine anywhere."

I furrow my brows in confusion.

"Alice," I say finally, "what are you on about?"

Alice was straining in her seat, eagerly peering out of the window. I followed her gaze curiously and was a little shocked by what I saw.

The bus was stationary, more than stationary, it was parked, quite centrally, in a car park which was full of about one hundred students.

"Shit,"

"Mmhm," Alice said, "Where have you been the last few minutes, Bella?"

I unbuckle my seatbelt and feel momentarily relieved at the pressure release from around my middle. But as soon as the feeling wears off, I am once again focussed on the hoards of buzzing students swarming around the mini bus. Their English accents, muffled by the thin walls, are a novelty to me, the London cockney at this point feeling no more than a sweeping generalisation.

Alice is not the only one desperate to escape, the rest of my class mates are hopping wildly in their seats, acting like three year olds as Professor Banner tries rigorously to gain their attention.

Finally, she manages to break through the drone of noise and everyone remains silent save from a few whispers from the back.

We are told to get our bags and to make sure that nothing is left behind, before we, in a very disorderly fashion, depart from the mini bus.

I shuffled along at the back of the group, favouring that position due to my lack of stability and my being prone to tripping over anything that will catch the toe of my shoe (that includes my own two feet).

Once safely out of the minibus, I greedily take mouthfuls of clean air- a little salty. I inhale deeply and the smell reminds me a little of home- slightly damp and a hint of the sea. I found it surprisingly comforting.

We gather around in a small bundle, most of us avoiding the eye contact, though fully intrigued by the English students standing around and watching our every move, most probably as interested in us as we are interested in them.

In her hand, Professor Banner held a sturdy clipboard. She was talking to another teacher now and I could tell the class were getting a little impatient. I was in no rush to meet my partner. I was actually hoping, by some miraculous incident, that he had fallen ill or gotten into an accident. Then I would be sent home where I could comfortably wallow in my own misery.

Alice notices my frown, like she always does, and smiles brightly in my direction. I produce a small smile for her but she doesn't seem satisfied, so she skips over and grabs my hand, just as Professor Banner starts calling names off the list.

The group thins, Alice leaves me to stand alone when her name is called. She skips happily away, following the professor like a curious child.

'Jessica Stanley.'

I hear Professor Banner call over the girl with the dark, frizzy hair and the large nasally voice. From where I stand, I can see her greet a particularly stuck up looking girl with long blond hair. _Great, _they'll get along just fine. But from seeing their awkward greeting grew a pit of nervousness in the bottom of my stomach that seemed magnified from before because of my sudden distraction that had diverted me from my dizzy inward feelings.

_Shit,_ I realise a little too late. _I'm next_

'Isabella Swan,'

I walk to her side timidly, staring grudgingly at my boots, willing them not to let me fall. I make it over, no embarrassment and when asked to, follow a willowy looking man with a grey beard through the close-knit crowd of English students. I feel like I'm graduating from high school again, like every single eye is zeroed in on me. My knees start to buckle and I strain to keep them from collapsing. I can feel the little pricks in my back from the daggers that are being glared at me. And who wouldn't be jealous? What a waste. The fit English boy with the American freak. It wasn't my fault that I had been partnered with him.

It turns out he's not much of a crowd person either, for it feels like minutes later that I'm still trailing behind the nutty professor and taking the daggers from the watchful eyes of envious girls.

The Professor then precariously stops directly in front of me and all my effort concentrating could have been wasted in seconds, but I manage to grind to a halt without tripping over myself or more importantly, him, and can't help but let out a gust of relief.

'Hello, Isabella. I'm Edward Cullen,'

Then I suck it back in again.

From under the hood of my lashes I take a nervous first glance at him, then flicker my eyes back to the greyness of the tarmac, a potentially safer view. From my peak I concluded one thing, the picture hadn't done him justice, hadn't done him justice at all.

His pale hand juts out in a friendly gesture, but every nerve ending in me feels like it's on fire and I can't seem to move. I see him withdraw his hand and there is nothing I can do about it. _Shit.. _and I had been doing so well.

'Err, Isabella. Are you okay?'

What was I going to say? Edward, you make me feel more alive by just standing there then any university support worker back home has in months. No, I was definatly going to avoid that.

Somewhere hidden in the fogginess of my mind, was the incentive to act like a normal human being and greet him like I would any other person. But this boy wasn't any other person, and I hadn't even given him a proper look yet.

So probably five minutes late and making myself look like an idiot, I held out _my _hand and introduced myself as 'Bella Swan,' but still held my gaze firmly to the floor.

My hand seemed to hang in the air between us before he grasped it briefly. Where his fingers touched mine, a ghost of his touch remained in the form of gentle tingles running down the entire length of my hand. I wanted to shake it as if I had pins and needles- the feeling was impossible to understand.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, like the fog that lingers in early fall mornings back home. I had to look at him, at least make eye contact with him, but I knew that as soon as my eyes connected with his, I wouldn't be able to look away. It would be like the first time that I laid eyes on the picture he sent me- it was all I thought about for days. Alice seemed to think that my mental condition had deteriorated, not that I was in a kind of Edward induced stupor.

One good thing about Edward's picture was that it distracted me from other things. I thought that was a good way to describe Edward. Distracting. He distracted me from being a normal human being, or as normal as I will ever be in this kind of situation, which was a very bad thing, seeing as I was always on the verge of insane.

I now run my gaze past his dark, designer jeans and fully ingest his grey shirt that looks equally as expensive. His shirt is open a little and I can see the contours of his chest. My gaze continues up to his smooth collar bones and the snowy, white skin of his neck. Past his Adam's Apple, is a faint outline of stubble, which continues onto his chin and strong, defined jaw line. His lips are plump and perfectly shaped, his nose, without bumps or sharp points. Then his eyes, no, no, I am not going to look at his eyes. This is enough.

'A good journey, Isabella?'

I find the way his lips move mesmerizing.

'Yes,' One word answers seem far safer at the moment.

'Bella,' I said, then decided he would probably need a bit more than that. 'Please call me Bella'

'Why aren't you looking at me, Bella?'

I can't help but adore how may name sounds coming off his lips but I realise that his voice seems hurt and a little offended, so then I decide to look into his eyes.

They are the brightest, most brilliant green I have ever seen- and I feel myself sway slightly.

How long has it been since one guy has affected me like this? I don't understand. It's dangerous. Maybe it's because I am just so vulnerable. I didn't want to think of it that way though. I wanted to think I was just a teenager with a huge crush... it sounds more.. normal.


End file.
